


green & ivory

by crownorclover



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:08:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27254692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownorclover/pseuds/crownorclover
Summary: Hank picks up a sympathy arrangement and meets his new florist.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	green & ivory

**Author's Note:**

> This is a few years old now, but I reread it recently and figured I would put it up with the drawing I did for it! Enjoy!

__

_Clnk-clnk._

The chimes above the door sang out, drawing Connor’s attention to the front of the small flower shop. A gruff, middle aged man walked in, making his way slowly to the counter, attention drifting from place to place as he scoped the store out. He walked with an air of unapproachable confidence that upon closer inspection of his body language- posture curled inwards, avoiding eye contact, hesitation- was patently fake.

When he reached the counter he leaned on it heavily.

“I’m here to pick up an order for Hank-“

“Lieutenant Hank Anderson, of the Detroit City Police Department.” Hank just stared, so Connor continued. “You have been working in the homicides department for approximately seven point th-“

“Alright, okay,” Hank raised his hands to interject. “Yeah, that’s me. No need to recite the Wiki. Guess you don’t need to card me then, huh?”

Connor gave a curt nod. “I apologize. As an employee I am encouraged to ‘get to know’ the regulars.”

Hank responded with a thoughtful hum, thinking privately that probably meant something other than researching a customer’s name. He glanced at the android's name tag pinned onto the strap of his apron. Curiously, Hank noticed, the android wore a formal shirt with his model number printed on it, visible just above the apron on his right breast. That wasn’t part of the uniform. He chose to display those details. “RK800. That explains the ID trick, then. What’s an RK model doing in retail, Connor?”

“I am a refurbished RK-series prototype, model RK800, serial number…” he trailed off at Hank’s expression. “After the events of November 11th, I was… ejected from my previous line of work.”

“Huh. Considering the whole unpaid slave labor thing, I wasn’t aware they could fire you guys.”

“I was not exactly fired, Lieutenant. My model series was to be decommissioned following the android uprising, and I,” Connor paused for a moment. His LED cycled to yellow, pulsing dimly. “I disagreed with that choice.”

Hank’s brow furrowed. “I’d fucking say so.”

Connor nodded slowly. “I eventually found my way here through various connections. Luckily the owner is a fairly progressive man and saw no issue with hiring an android on as an average employee.”

“Well, fuck. Glad you made your way here, then.”

“I feel very fortunate. But, you mentioned you were here for an order?”

Hank nodded, accepting the gentle but clear deflection. Connor’s yellow LED cycled back to a calm blue. Hank stood straight to pull his wallet from his back pocket. “Yeah. And sorry for the short notice order, it’s really- well. Uh, I’ll pay cash.”

Hank paid his bill and Connor handed over the change and receipt. “Are you aware, Lieutenant, that we offer business accounts with direct billing? Upon reviewing your order history, it came to my attention that you’ve been paying out of pocket, when it would be more efficient to-“

“Ah, no thanks. It’s not a business expense.”

Connor tilted his head. “Is it not a sympathy bouquet for-“

“I like doing this,” Hank blurted, then looked down, embarrassed by his rude interruption. “Uh, thanks, though. Connor.”

There was a brief pause as Connor scanned the man before him. He was obviously uncomfortable with this exchange. The owner was a kind and patient man, and had taken Connor aside one day to suggest he work on his small talk with human customers. Connor thought now that he might need to follow up with some clarifying questions, as he was potentially misunderstanding what ‘small talk’ entailed. He was under the impression that people liked talking about themselves. Maybe he needed to ask less personal questions?

Connor excused himself, going to fetch the flower arrangement from the cooler. It was a classic and elegant sympathy bouquet. Front and centre was an ivory hydrangea, with large bright lilies billowing to the side, opposite similarly coloured orchids. White roses and mums were dotted throughout the arrangement, framed by deep green foliage, white delphinium, and ferns.

Hank’s features tightened as Connor presented the arrangement to him. He reverently adjusted the card pick in the centre, touched the family name printed neatly on the envelope. After a few moments, he nodded approvingly, despite the pain clearly written in his posture. “Who worked on this?”

“I did, Lieutenant.”

“Huh. I didn’t know…” Hank trailed off, a little unsure how to phrase what he was thinking with any tact whatsoever. Connor picked up on his meaning.

“Although my original purpose was not even tangentially related to floral design, my ability for problem solving and creative thinking has aided my learning to do so,” Connor smiled. “I enjoy it.”

Hank looked a little surprised, and definitely pleased. “I bet, huh? Well… uh, you did a great job, Connor.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“Hank. Not on duty.”

“Thank you, Hank Anderson.”

He snorted. “Just Hank.”

Hank took another moment, admiring the bouquet with a steady gaze, before continuing. “I never thought much of small gestures like sending cards or flowers,” he mused, Connor thought, mostly to himself. “Thought it was kind of a waste, but when you’ve lost… they don’t make things easier, but when you’re going through shit, having a little life gifted to you is a big fucking deal.”

He looked at Connor now, face heating up when he felt the intense focus he had had on the arrangement reflected back at him by the android. “W-what I’m saying is this will mean a lot. It means a lot. What you do makes a difference.”

Connor blinked, an warm tightness settling into his shoulders. He stood a little straighter. “That is very kind… Hank.”

The older man ran a hand over his face, sighing, before carefully picking up the arrangement. “Well, I won’t keep you. Thanks again.”

Hank gave him a small nod and turned. Connor’s body tensed, and he spoke without quite meaning to. “Hank, may I ask you a question?”

Hank turned towards him and nodded in recognition, staying silent. Connor felt… ridiculous. He laced his arms behind his back.

“May I be your designer from now on? If an order comes in with your name, I can…” He trailed off. Why did this matter to him?

Oh. Because Hank was a good man, and Connor had made a difference for him.

Hank stood still for a moment, before nodding, and turning again to walk out the door.

“I’d like that. See you, Connor.”

“Goodbye, Hank.”

_Clnk-clnk._


End file.
